Silence

I can hear the silence buzzing in my ears. It’s a horrible sound. The last words I told her still echo in my head and I slowly feel stupid after I say them. We’re I’m in habit of telling her certain things, sweet things, I suppose, but it all depends on taste. I told her Sweet dreams as we were hanging up. She replied in the same manner.

“Always and only of…” and I held that upward inflection. What was she supposed to say? What was I supposed to say? In the past it would be followed by a you, but now what? Always and only of what we had before all this mess came into our lives? Before the urge to live a new life, a single life? There wasn’t anything I wanted to hear at that moment but I was longing for the you - the me. She always had dreams of me, didn’t she? At least the sweetest ones were of me, right? They were always of her, mostly, usually.

She just said goodnight again. I accepted it because I had done something that I didn’t want to do. This, what we have now, is all that I can expect. I shouldn’t expect more. I wish I could.

Philosopher and I were at Hastings on Friday and I saw this book. Religion has very rarely been a method for me to heal - it hasn’t been one since I was a kid and naive enough to believe that the world was created in only seven days in only a thousand handful of years ago. But Buddhism seems to come more natural to me than any other. I always said if I would allow myself to be naive and believe in something, Buddhism would be my religion.

I should’ve bought it, but I didn’t. Instead I opted for something else - a Soduku book that Jyg and I could share. Something we could do together and prove that two people can be friends despite the break up.

I don’t know what’s wrong with me. That last time I told her that we were still together and things were going well - well enough to stick it through. And the urge for affection is greatly needed. I’m sick and tired of being the bum friend, the writer with a dream. The person who doesn’t drive because of some inane fears. All these things were fine and perfect when I was a kid, but I’m in the real world now, aren’t I? And the more I start to self-analyze myself, the more I’m convinced that nothing short of an asylum is for me. Somewhere I can be locked up and forgotten.

Or perhaps, I’m just reading into all the shitty thoughts I’ve been having.

I drew a picture of you…

I’m not sure how I feel right now. I don’t want to hate her and I know I don’t and probably won’t, or can’t. For the meantime, however, I’m asking her not to contact me or see me or anything. Apparently, it was my Epiphany post that drove her to the decision. I can’t understand why. It was my crack at calling myself the (ex)boyfriend. I wasn’t sure what I was anymore. I was having a case of identity crisis. I wasn’t her boyfriend and I wasn’t her exboyfriend. So I called myself the (ex)boyfriend because I’m in a gray area. This signaled the change.

Now I’m here listening to Aimee Mann like a moron in love with something that cannot be. And The Professor and Jenndiggity, amongst my other friends, have given me the support that I need. If I make it through this, I can make it through anything, however, I fear that something may go astray. We’ll see, I suppose. We’ll see.

And to think, you all thought I was smart

Well, it’s official. Jyg and I are no longer. I realized this through the power of MySpace where a small glimmer of hope was holding on to me like a dire child. It went from In a Relationship to Single in a heartbeat after my Epiphany post. What sucks the most is that I found out through MySpace.

I’m not sure where any of this came from. I just know that in the mean time, I want nothing from her. And I don’t want to speak to her. And I want not to see her for the time being.

Which is going to be hard, considering she still has some of my books.

Rocket Man, or in the vein of Hank Moody

I hate to disappoint, but I begin with this:

Love suffers long. Love is kind; it is not jealous. Love does not brag and is not puffed up; it does not behave unbecomingly and does not seek its own things; it is not provoked and does not take account of evil; it does not rejoice because of unrighteousness, but rejoices with the truth; it covers all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never falls away. 1 Corinthians 13:4-8

I don’t know what to do. Today may have been the last time I kiss her lips, touched her in the way lovers naturally do. Five years with her and tomorrow, when I wake up, she won’t be there like she used to. Instead, we will try to reinvent what we had in the past. Will it last this time, most likely. We haven’t officially broken up as she is in that confused stage and I’m just distraught by the events happening. I think that the world beneath me is once again the rocky edged road. I’m too worn out to write. Think I’m going to lay down, take a breath.

What happens from here? There are two outcomes, right? The great path will that this will blow over and we can proceed with our life together; the other is rough and I don’t think I’m in the mood of thinking about it. I was hoping to write an entire blog. But I keep blanking out. So many emotions, so little time.

Fuck.

—————-
Now playing: My Morning Jacket - Rocket Man
via FoxyTunes